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" Tub full, she stood back to regard the mound of ice. Already the heat of her home fought to melt it. A rap came again at the entrance, more like an impatient pounding, and she cursed. The clock showed her only a few minutes away from her torture. I need whoever it is to go away.
She ran to the door and slid open the peek-a-boo slot.
Familiar turquoise eyes peered back. “Little witch, little witch, let me come in,” he chanted in a gruff voice.
A smile curled her lips. “Not by the wart on my chinny chin chin,” she replied. “And before you try huffing and puffing, Nefertiti herself spelled this door. So forget blowing it down.”
“So open it then. I’ve got a lead I think on escapee number three.”
A glance at the clock showed one minute left. “Um, I’m kind of in the middle of something. Can you come back in like half an hour?”
“Why not just let me in and I’ll wait while you do your thing? I promise not to watch, unless you like an audience.”
“I can’t. Please. Just go away. I promise I’ll let you in when you come back.”
His eyes narrowed. “Open this door, Ysabel.”
“No. Now go away. I’ll talk to you in half an hour.”
She slammed the slot shut and only allowed herself a moment to lean against the door which shuddered as he hit it with a fist. She didn’t have time to deal with his frustration. The tickle in her toes started and she ran to the bathroom, dropping her robe as she moved.
The fire erupted, and standing on the lava tile in her bathroom, she concentrated on breathing against the spiraling pain and flames. I mustn’t scream. Remy might still be there, listening.
Why that mattered, she couldn’t have said, but it did help her focus for a short moment. But the punishment would not allow her respite. Flames licked up her frame, demolishing her thin underpants and she couldn’t help but scream as the agony tore through her body.
Make it stop. Make it stop.
Wishing, praying, pleading didn’t stop the torture.
As the inferno consumed her, her ears roared with the snap of the fire and a glance in her mirror horrified her, for there she stood – a living pyre of fire. She closed her eyes against the brilliant heat, but that just seemed to amplify the pain.
Her knees buckled, but she didn’t fall. Something clasped her and she moaned as she sensed more than saw Remy’s arms wrap around her waist. It had to be him. Who else was crazy enough to break down her door and interrupt?
Forcing open her eyes, eyes that wanted to water but couldn’t as the heat dried up all moisture, she saw the flames, not picky about their choice
her own nightmare, she knew enough to try and push him away with hands that glowed inferno bright. He wouldn’t budge, and he didn’t scream – just held her as the curse ran its course. Without being told, once the flames disappeared, he placed her in the ice bath, the shocking cold a welcome relief.
Gasping from the pain, she couldn’t speak but remained aware of how he stroked her hair back from her face and how his arm rested around her shoulders, cradling her. “Oh, my poor little witch,” he murmured. “No wonder you’ve been hiding.”
Teeth chattering as the cold penetrated her feverish limbs, she tried to reply. “Wh-what c-c-can I say? I’m h-h-hot.”
-Remy & Ysabel "
― Eve Langlais , A Demon and His Witch (Welcome to Hell, #1)
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" Why are you doing this? I don’t want you. Is that the problem? Is your ego so big you can’t handle a woman rejecting you?”
“Oh, you want me alright, my sexy little witch. Want me so bad it scares you. Well, I’ve got news for you. It scares the fuck out of me, too. But I don’t care. When the options are settling down with you for life and popping out little demonlings or watching you walk away, I know what I choose.”
For a moment, she couldn’t answer, could only gape at him as his words penetrated. Surely, she misunderstood. “What did you say?”
“I want you as my mate.”
No misunderstanding that time.
She tamped down her elation by slapping it with the cold, hard truth. “You’ll hurt me.”
“Trust me.”
He asked too much.
“I’m not the right woman.”
“You’re all I want.”
She shook her head lest his words weave a spell around her and make her believe. Yet despite all the warnings in her head, hope blossomed and love warmed her. How nice it would be to allow herself to love him. To trust him.
Sadness entered his expression at her rejection. “I know it’s hard for you, little witch, but I promise you’ve nothing to fear. Unless the thought of too many orgasms in a row freaks you out.”
And that quickly, he changed from pensive male to the one she’d grown to love with the mischievous smile. He lunged. She squealed like a little girl and ran. Not far though.
With his ridiculously long stride, he quickly caught her and tossed her over his shoulder.
He laughed as she beat at his broad back with her fists. “Save some of that energy for the bedroom because you are not leaving until you admit you care for me.”
“I’ll kill you first.”
“I like a girl who’s kinky.”
“You’re impossible.”
“No, but I am horny.”
“How are we supposed to catch those souls if we’re fooling around here?”
“Some things are more important.”
“How can having sex with me be more important than ensuring you don’t burst into flame tomorrow?”
“I would let someone beat me with a cat-o-nine too, if you’d just admit you like me.”
“I hate you.”
“Close. I see we’ll need to work on that.”
-Ysabel & Remy "
― Eve Langlais , A Demon and His Witch (Welcome to Hell, #1)
